


Etchings

by lysimachia



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:38:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8231629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysimachia/pseuds/lysimachia
Summary: Belle find one of Rumpelstiltskin’ old sketchbooks. It ignites her imagination.





	

It started at the beginning of winter, just as the first truly cold day swept through Storybrooke. The townspeople complained that the newly-opened portal back to their homeland was to blame; it had never been this cold before, they said, they were getting twice as much wind this way. Rumpelstiltskin overheard one such conversation at Granny’s that afternoon, and snorted so loudly Belle had to pull him out onto the street. It’s Maine, he argued, it’s always been bloody freezing. And if they hated it so much, they could go back to the enchanted forest with the rest of the rabble.

Belle only scolded him, and told him to be friendlier.

He’d been engrossed in a fascinating book – Belle’s recommendation – in front of a comforting fire, a few days into the season, when he’d been started out of his reverie.

 “Rum?”

Rumpelstiltskin lifted his head at the sound of his name, and smiled automatically. “Yes, love?”

Belle padded over to join him on the sofa, sitting close enough that their arms brushed. “What’s this?”

In her hands, she held a worn brown sketchbook, and the sight of it made Rumpelstiltskin’s heart race. Taking it from her, he rested it over his knees, opening it to the first page and half-smiling at the picture there. “Where did you find this old thing?”

She tilted her head, following his gaze over the pictures. “I was tidying up the guest room.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “You can hardly expect Bae and Mia to sleep among all those dusty boxes.”

He shot her a grin. “Dusty? My boxes? Well, I never.”

Belle giggled, tucking her legs underneath her and shifting closer, resting her chin on his shoulder to watch as he slowly flicked through the pages. “Did you do all these?”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded slowly, pausing on one picture to run his fingertips gently over the worn page. It showed Bae at ten, his eyes bright and mischievous and his hair desperately in need of a trim. The next page showed him slightly older, and the page after that even older.

“My wife used to sketch all the time,” he murmured. “I started doing these after…after I lost him. I thought…” He trailed off, his heart clenching. “I thought I might forget.”

Belle ran her hand soothingly over his arm, dropping a kiss to his shoulder through his shirt. “They’re good,” she said, quietly.

He smiled, turning his head to claim a proper kiss. Flicking through a few more pages, he showed her another sketch. “This is what I thought he might look like older,” he said. “Just in case.”

With Rumpelstiltskin’s critical eye, the sketch was a poor representation of his son; he’d imagined him skinnier, with shorter hair and less defined features. In reality, his Bae was as handsome as he’d ever been.

Belle, however, looked impressed. “It’s awfully close,” she said. Reaching out to stroke his hair, she gave him another kiss, along his jawline. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Rum leaned into her touch. “You didn’t. I haven’t looked at these in some time.” With a smile, he turned to the last few pages in the book. “Not since I drew these, in fact.”

Belle laughed, delighted, at the sketches of herself. “Oh, Rum,” she breathed, tracing the very edge of the paper with her fingertips. “They’re beautiful.” She gave him a sideways glance. “You made me far too pretty,” she said accusingly.

Rumpelstiltskin made a noise of protest. “I drew you exactly as you were!” he said defiantly. “Look.” He turned the page, revealing a full page devoted to a portrait of just her head and shoulders. Her eyes leapt off the page, sharply defined at the centre and framed in a hundred lines for her soft lashes. Her hair curled around her shoulders almost exactly as it did now, half-pinned back to reveal the gentle lines of her jaw.

Belle rested her head on his shoulder, slipping one arm under to curl around his.

“When did you draw these?” she asked softly.

Rumpelstiltskin heaved a sigh, letting his eyes slip close and his face bury into her hair, inhaling deeply. “After I threw you out,” he murmured. “I didn’t want to forget.”

They held each other for a long time, and soon enough the sketchbook fell to the floor, forgotten as they stretched out on the sofa and fell asleep in front of the roaring fire.

***

With the first snow came Belle’s first move.

She’d packed a huge picnic into a deep green backpack, strapped it to her back, and took him firmly by the hand, announcing that it would be a terrible shame to waste such beautiful weather. Rum had grumbled even as he dutifully shrugged on his coat and gloves, and followed her to the top of the highest hill in town. With a flourish and a huge smile, she’d presented him with his favourite sandwich and a brand new sketchbook.

He gave her a perplexed look, taking the sandwich and eyeing the book suspiciously. “What’s this, dearie?”

She pressed it into his hands, fishing around in her pockets and producing a handful of pencils. “I thought you’d like to draw the view,” she said brightly. “Your drawings are so beautiful, I thought it would be nice to get some of the town. In case we wanted to send some to Bae, or send over to Snow and Ruby!”

He took the pencils, resting them in his lap and raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure her Majesty and the wolf girl are going to be too enthusiastic about anything from me, Belle.”

“You helped them with Cora,” she reminded him briskly, with a matching raised eyebrow and a sharp elbow to his side. “And if you don’t want to give them to anyone, then you can just give them to me.” She dimpled prettily, ducking her head. “I really like them.”

_She was a clever one_ , Rum mused as he set about sketching the landscape. _Too clever, really._

***

The second move came at New Year’s.

Belle had gone to Granny’s for the reunion celebration; Snow White and her Prince Charming had led a bundle of fairy tale characters through the portal for a little get-together, complete with obscenely loud fireworks and, judging by Belle’s state when she arrived home, no small amount of liquor.

She giggled hysterically as she crashed through the door, almost knocking him to his feet in the hallway. “Oops! I’m so sorry, Rum! I didn’t see you there!” She blinked hard, grabbing his shoulders and staring open-mouthed at him. “What are you doing up so late?! It’s the early morn hours!” She giggled again at that, using him as leverage as she kicked her high heels off, dropping back down to her normal height. “Remember when you used to say that in the Dark Castle?! The early morn hours! I’ll be back in the early morn hours, dearie! Don’t wait up!”

Rumpelstiltskin smothered a smile as he looped an arm around his little love’s waist, leading her up the stairs. “I do indeed, my dear. And I remember you trying to wait up anyway, and falling asleep at the table with your head in the tea tray.”

Her laugh was like music, echoing through the dark house as she stumbled towards the bedroom, collapsing heavily on the end of the bed when she got there. “Only because you got all grumpy when I didn’t wait up for you,” she said with a smile, hooking one hand around the back of his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss.

He cupped her face gently, letting her explore his mouth languidly with her tongue, tasting the sugary cocktails she was so fond of, with a sharp undercurrent of something harder. She hummed as he pulled away, going up on her knees on the bed to wrap her arms around his neck and press her torso fully against his.

“Missed you tonight,” she murmured between kisses, leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses to his neck and abruptly bite down, drawing a hiss from his lips. He yanked her up and kissed her again, as intoxicated by her as she was by her fruity drinks.

Reaching down, she seized the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head, revealing acres of creamy skin, only covered by a tiny scrap of lace at her hips. She smiled seductively at his face, no doubt slack-jawed and dumbstruck, and pulled him down to cover her on the bed, catching his mouth in a searing kiss.

It would have been one of the more erotic moments of Rumpelstiltskin’s life, if Belle hadn’t been cut off in her ardour by a huge yawn.

Chuckling, he slipped off of her, doing his best to ignore her whimper of disappointment, and pulled the blankets out from under her, covering her up to her chin.

She yawned again, reaching up to another kiss. “Mmm, don’t wanna sleep,” she murmured, her eyes already slipping closed. “Wanna have sex.”

Rumpelstiltskin smirked, leaning down to gently kiss each of her eyelids. “Maybe tomorrow, love,” he whispered in her ear. “If you’re feeling alright.”

He shed his clothes and climbed into bed next to her, nestling close to the soft skin of her back.

“Rum?”

Her voice was sleepy, and he slipped an arm around her waist, rubbing his thumb in circles on her stomach. “Yes, love?”

“Can you draw me again?”

His brow furrowed for a moment. “Draw you?”

She yawned again, wrapping her arm around his and cuddling it close. “Like in your sketchbook. It was nice how…how you drew me…”

Rumpelstiltskin pressed a kiss to the back of her neck through her hair. “Whatever you want, love,” he murmured.

When morning came, he amused himself doing little doodles of her resting her head in her hands, wincing as she swallowed two pain killers, looking up blearily through red-rimmed eyes, and shooting him a few obscene hand gestures before running to the bathroom.

***

The third move came on Belle’s birthday, right at the end of winter. It was normally warmer on her birthday, as spring set in, but winter in Maine was a lot different than in the Southlands. They still bundled up in coats and scarves on their way to the restaurant, and as they strolled back.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me drive, dearest,” Rumpelstiltskin chided as he warmed her hands in his own.

“I like cold nights,” Belle said, smiling, gesturing around. All Rum could see was the thin layer of frost on the ground and the way their breath fogged in front of them, but Belle obviously saw something else. He tilted his head, smiling at her.

“Why?”

She shrugged, raising her head to look up at the sky. “The stars are more beautiful on cold nights,” she said finally. “And everything’s quieter. Softer. More peaceful.”

She snuggled closer to his side. “Thank you for your present, by the way,” she said.

Rum smiled. “You’ve thanked me quite enough, my dear. You’re very welcome.” He pressed his lips to the top of her cold head as they turned into their driveway. “Thank you for being born.”

Belle giggled, stepping back a little to allow Rum to unlock the front door. They stepped inside, savouring the sudden rush of heat, and hung their coats on the hooks by the door.

Belle leaned back against the wall in the dark entryway, looking up at Rumpelstiltskin through her lashes. “You know,” she said coyly, reaching up to twirl a piece of hair between her fingers. “There is something you could do, if you really wanted to thank me for being born.”

“Oh, there is?” Rum smiled, moving closer and trailing his fingertips feather-light up her bare arm.

She shivered, and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. A blush rose on her cheeks, and she slipped her hand in his, leading him wordlessly upstairs.

The sight that greeted him in the bedroom, however, caught him by surprise.

“Um. Belle?”

Without a word, Belle turned to face him, a wide smile on her face.

Rum looked around again, directing a perplexed look at the chair set up at the foot of the bed, and the sketchpad and pencil resting on it. “You want me to…draw something?”

“Me,” she said, breathlessly. “I want you to draw me.”

Rum smiled, moving close enough to sweep her beautiful hair over her shoulders and cradle her face in his hands. “Of course, love. But…you really want me to draw you now?” To further prove his point, he dropped his head to her shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses along her shoulder and neck.

She giggled, pushing him away gently and leading him to the chair. “Yes. Now.” She handed him the paper and pencil, pushed him down into the chair, and climbed onto the bed.

Before Rumpelstiltskin could protest further, Belle reached around and primly unzipped her dress, stripping it off before unhooking her bra and peeling down her underwear. It wasn’t until she was stark naked that she sat up, her feet tucked underneath her, and gave him a confused look. “How should I lie? Or sit? What would be better?”

Rumpelstiltskin could only stare for a long, long moment, the heat rising in his face. He glanced down at the sketchpad, then back up at Belle.

“B…Belle?” His voice was shaking almost as badly as his hands. “Are…do you…I…Belle?”

His love giggled, tucking a silky lock of hair behind her ear. “I just…when I saw those sketches in your book, I…I really liked the idea of you drawing me. And the more I thought about it, I…well, I saw in a movie once, that Ruby showed me, a man drawing a woman…like this. I thought you might…” She trailed off, biting her bottom lip.

Rum let out a ragged breath, resting the sketchbook on his knees and gripping the pencil tighter than strictly necessary. “You sit…however you feel most comfortable, my dear.”

Belle cycled through a few positions, trying sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs swinging over the side, leaning against the bedpost and reclining on her stomach. She eventually settled on lying on her back, a few pillows under her head and back, her hair haloed around her face, which was turned to face him. She let one hand fall beside her head, and the other rested on her stomach.

Rumpelstiltskin drew with a restless, eager passion, his hand flying over the paper at a fevered pace. He thought he knew every inch of Belle, had mapped every fragment of soft skin with his questing hands and lips, but he’d never seen her as well as he did right now. He’d never noticed how slim her ankles were, or the little dip just above her hipbones, or the dimples in the soft skin at the sides of her breasts. He’d never noticed how her blush extended all the way down her chest, how she shifted her fingers against each other and curled and uncurled her toes.

He had noticed how she bit her lip when she aroused, though. The sight of it made him itch to throw the pad aside and join her on the bed.

He finished his first sketch, looking down at it dazedly. Without a thought, he turned the page, dragging his chair to the left side of the bed, where she was resting her head.

She made as if to move, and he reached out an arm, hovering just inches away from her creamy skin. “Stay…stay there.”

She tilted her head back to look at him, upside-down, but didn’t move. From here he captured the stunning symmetry of her face, the exquisite curve from her waist out to her hips and back again, and her legs; one a little bent, her toes disappearing behind the ankle of the other, soft and beautiful and seeming to go on forever.

Next, he stood, clambering up to join her on the bed. Belle sat up, but stayed a scant few inches away. She leant one side against the bedpost, her legs curling under her. Rumpelstiltskin’s hand was aching, but he couldn’t stop; he drew sketch after sketch of his love, the curves and contours of her body searing onto the paper as they were seared onto his mind, and he was sure he’d never pick up a pencil again without thinking of this exact moment.

He paused, his gaze flicking between Belle and the paper, the paper and Belle, and that was enough for her. She seized the pad and pencil, throwing them to the floor, and climbed on top of him, dragging his mouth to hers for a blistering kiss.

He groaned, pressing his body as close as he could to hers, letting his hands explore all the places he’d been raking his eyes over. Belle’s tongue dragged over all the sensitive places in his mouth, darting out to let her bite down playfully on his lips and jawline. He reached down to grind her more fully against him, and she let out a gasp, the harsh fabric of his trousers coming into contact with her wet folds. He locked eyes with her then, reaching down to trail his fingertips over her, dipping in just a little, to hear her gasp, before raising his hand to his lips and tasting her there.

Belle gasped a little, dropping her trembling hands to his chest to wrench his shirt off, both of them gasping and clutching at each other at the first touch of bare skin on bare skin. _I could never capture such softness with pen and paper_ , Rumpelstiltskin thought. _Not even the Old Masters could do that_.

Rolling them over, he shed the rest of his clothes in between fevered kisses to her breasts and stomach. He caught one of her nipples between his teeth, tugging harder than he normally would, and was rewarded with a keening cry and her hand fisting in his hair.

“Oh God, Rum…”

He loved to hear her talk; she so very rarely said anything when they made love, although she was vocal in other ways. He wanted it desperately now, to hear her tell him that she wanted him, that she wanted everything from him.

“Belle,” he murmured, pressing his face against the soft skin of her neck and licking and sucking there. He let his hand trailed down between her legs again, and coaxed her to open for him, touching her with a faster pace and keener purpose now. “Why did you want me to draw you?”

She was moaning and gasping, craning her face to his to claim fierce kisses. “Oh…Oh, Rum, please…”

“Why, Belle?” He buried his face in her neck again, inhaling deeply. “Why did you want me to draw you?”

“I love…I love the way you look at me.” Her voice was hoarse and breathy, and she threw one hand to her head. “Oh, God, Rum, more, please, God!”

“Keep talking,” he muttered, grinding himself shamelessly against her thigh.

“Oh…I love the idea of you…oh! Of you watching me!” She broke off with a cry, lifting his hips to meet his hand harder. “I love knowing…knowing that you watched me that closely. I wanted your eyes on me again, I want you to look at me like that all the time, Rum, all the time, _God_.”

With a groan, he captured her lips with his own, wrenching his hand away and wrapping her legs around his waist. He bit down on her lip, and she moaned, digging her nails hard into his back.

With one fierce motion, they were joined, and Rumpelstiltskin knew he wouldn’t last five minutes, not with Belle’s hot mouth at his neck and her words ringing in his ears. Thankfully, she wasn’t far behind him; he reached down to rub at her, desperately, and felt her clench around him, blissfully tight.

They collapsed together, breathless and weak, still entwined, for what felt like hours. Even as he mustered the energy to roll over and gather Belle in his arms, pressing soft kisses to her sweet hair, Rum felt as though he had no bones left in his body.

He was just drifting off when Belle shifted her weight off him, and he cracked a bleary eyes open to peer at her.

“Darling? What are you doing?”

She was leaning almost entirely off the bed, leaving him with an awfully nice view but no warm Belle snuggled into his side. After a few moments, she reappeared, her face  flushed but grinning, waving his sketchpad in one hand.

Throwing the covers over both of them, she nestled comfortably into his side, opening the book to the first page and letting out a gasp. “Oh, _Rum_ …”

Perking up at the tone of her voice, Rumpelstiltskin straightened, wrapping one arm around Belle as she stared, captivated, at his sketches. By the second page, her hand was running up and down his thigh, and she was turning to press quick, fiery kisses to his neck every few seconds. By the third, she was in his lap, leaning back against his chest and rocking her hips against his.

By the fourth, Rum was fairly certain he’d be flexing his drawing muscles far more in future.


End file.
